Author: Judyannet Muchiri

Sustainable Devt in Africa |Co-host #NaydChat |Convener #RightAfrika |Analytical & Creative Writer based in Antalya, Turkey|Blogger & Social Media Editor at http://www.nayd.org/

You have known her since you were kids. You lived in the same neighbourhood; her house was a few houses from yours. You spent many afternoons, together with other kids, in the field across your house running around, sometimes chasing after a worn ball and building stick houses. Often you made up random games; games that ushered in the night, games from which your mother’s incessant voice unplugged you. You remember those days; remember the smell of dust in the hot afternoons, the earthy smell of the soil that enveloped you as you sloshed and squealed in the rain,…

Brida via @theMagunga
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When Sila thinks about it, what she remembers most is the stillness that enveloped their tiny house after. Sila grew up in rural Kenya in one of those farm houses that dot the extensive tracts of land covered in crops and cattle. Theirs was a tiny family. She was an only child. This is not to say that she had a lonely childhood. Far from it. She had friends from the neighbourhood who visited her home every day and who eventually became the brothers and sisters she never had. She was also surrounded by activities, the usual things that define…

Sila via @theMagunga
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You stand out in the cold. You have on a brown pair of pants, a white shirt, a soft blue sweater and a scarf. Old clothes; clothes that fit on your frame perfectly; familiarity in a strange land. You tremble with a shiver that threatens to escalate, so you hold your hands behind you and clasp your hands in a knot. Then you look up, to the hundred of eyes questioning you. You, however, don’t hold their gaze with answers instead you look further behind them to the rusty buildings that stand weakly staring at you; classes. It is your…

Mugumo High via @theMagunga
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That the smile you see is on my lips. That my heart is full alright Just full of dark darkness It is strong and it is pounding I could explode anytime now That today I don’t want to talk, can’t talk That I just want you to hold me, My head on your chest just hold me I want to listen Listen to my thoughts; please don’t say a word That the food you just served me would drive foodies crazy That sadly I can’t taste it I have lost my sense of taste; I can’t taste You I have…

How Do I Tell You? via @theMagunga
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You sit across each other. You on the worn out sofa, her on the sturdy stool. Two of your little ones are playing, while the two older ones are arguing about whose turn it is to do the dishes. Outside the cows moo, the neighbours quarrel, the dog barks lazily. You make another attempt at a joke. Only this time it is delivered in undertones, and then you look at her hoping to draw out a laugh or a song from her eyes. Just like in the old days. Instead she looks through you, forces a weak smile then her…

Selina via @theMagunga
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He came out of nowhere: drink spilled on my dress, profound apologies from the drunkard, irritation on my part, an offer to buy me a drink, cursing and insults, more apologies, forgiveness, mindless flirting, lust, infatuation, love, and from that day on, he became mine. It was less than a few weeks and before my hostel room became his new home and a few weeks earlier when his world became my home. Daylight would find me drowning in thoughts of him while night would find me buried in his embrace. He said he was a part-time writer, and I soon…

Jano via @theMagunga
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You met her on a bus. Every day after work you sat in the tired bus. Exhausted, you’d recline into your seat, hug the window with your eyes and will the bus to take you. Take you anywhere. But every day after six stops it willed you out. Home. A cozy place on the fifth floor of this apartment overlooking the sea with a breathtaking view. A red and black themed living room. A bookshelf full of books. The sort of books that take you to distant lands and gift you sorrow, joy, freedom, anger, music, hate, love – things…

Sabina via @theMagunga
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The day she came home, home being the small room where she’d moved into at the beginning of the year, to an email is the day everything changed. It was the best day of her life. When she tells of that day to friends at the local pub she speaks of this day fondly. She walks them through, detail upon detail, pausing once in a while to hold the tears back, and they all loudly drink to it. It is the day that separates her life into two. Now she sits at the dingy pub, vodka in hand.  Listens to…

Luminata via @theMagunga
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I was new in that neighbourhood. I came from the village to work for this family as a house help. The first morning after arriving I was instructed to rise early and prepare breakfast for the family. I was in the kitchen trying to get the cooker on and failing miserably. Everybody else was sleeping in. I did not know what to do. This was my first as a help and it looked like it would be my last that very morning. I started getting anxious. I could see the look on my mother’s face. Hear the heavy whispers of…

Julian via @theMagunga
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‘Absolutely not!’ Those were the first words I said to him. I met him in a bookstore. I always knew I would meet him in a bookstore, but when he asked to pay for my books, I refused. He was not one to give up easily, so he insisted and gave me two choices. Pay for my books or buy me coffee. We went for coffee. I enjoyed the talk more than the coffee. See, he was a well read man. He loved the classics most. I told him I loved the classics, but that I was enjoying the works…

I Will Call You Hawa via @theMagunga
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